


Much Needed R & R

by EmetoOmo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emetophilia, M/M, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 18:37:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15612468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmetoOmo/pseuds/EmetoOmo
Summary: Jack just wants a day off, and Gabe doesn't know how to chill tf out.





	Much Needed R & R

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked: Combination of 20 and 1 for Repear76, either Gabe is hungover or has eaten something that’s gone out of date from last night, making him sick which makes Jack lose his shit and “you could’ve told me and I would’ve gone with someone else”
> 
> Anonymous asked: 18 Repear 76<3
> 
> 18\. “My head is spinning.”  
> 20\. “Why didn’t you tell me you get carsick?”  
> 1\. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me… I was fine last night.”
> 
> Warning for alcohol use and graphic vomiting~

A day at the beach seemed like just what the doctor ordered. And by doctor, we mean Angela, because it took her orders to get Gabe and Jack out of the building and off relaxing for once. They were both workaholics of the worst kind, though Jack seemed to do it out of some necessity to feed his ulcer, and Gabe seemed to enjoy making people miserable all day.

It wasn’t Reyes’s idea to go to the beach. In fact, quite the opposite. He had wanted to sneak back into his room, and just go to bed. But Jack flashed them puppy eyes, and that charming smile, and he wilted. Not that he said as much. Instead, it was a sudden need to see how sunburned Morrison could get after a day outside in sunlight.

Gabe was drinking the moment his ass hit the seat of the car, and no protest from Jack of telling him how illegal it was to have an open container of alcohol in the car while driving. “Fucking cuff me then, Jack. Take me to jail. Throw away the key. I’m such a bad, bad man…”

Jack didn’t cuff him, but the mention of it had him pink all the way through his ears for the entire drive to the beach.

As boring as Reyes had thought it would be, he’d simply laid out on a towel beneath the umbrella, put some shades on, and laughed as women flocked Jack, touching on his muscles, squealing as he smiled, and not a damn one suspecting that he was more queer than a two dollar bill. More than once, Jack looked at Gabe, made eye contact, practically begging him to come rescue him. To that, Gabe raised a beer…and at one point “poured one out” for him. Rest in pieces, Strike Commander.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Jack asked when he finally peeled himself away a couple hours later, already starting to blister on his shoulders. He had sand burns on his knees and bright red ‘rashes’ on his wrists from volley ball.

“Enjoying how damn soft you are. Super soldier.” Gabe snorted and downed another beer, tossing it in the pile.

“You’re drunk…” Jack frowned at him. Gabe shrugged. There it was…his disappointed voice.

“You told me to have a good time, this is a good time.” He defended, and popped another beer open.

Morrison grabbed the beer from him, his patience gone, and chucked it so far Gabe didn’t see it land. “Car. Now. Or you’re walking home.”

Well then, that was a new tone.

Jack was already heading off to the car, his smile too stiff, his footfalls too heavy. Those that passed didn’t notice the difference, but Gabe did. It was impossible for him not to. He grabbed their towels, the umbrella, the cooler, and stumbled toward the car. No one asked him for pictures, no one really even recognized him…no Reyes was given a larger berth, some actively avoiding the drunken man.

It pissed him off, and he’d have said something to them if not for the sound of the ignition. He hurried to toss everything into the back seat, before buckling into the front. “Hey…see…seat belt. You didn’t have to ask.”

“Why, gee, Gabe. Thank you for not breaking the law for once. Please refrain from breaking your arm patting yourself on the back so hard,” Jack said dryly, and Gabe fell silent, realizing he’d really really stepped in it.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest, rubbing his temples as his mind swam. Every bump in the road threw his equilibrium off, and he just clenched his jaw, not daring bother Jack.

It didn’t matter, Jack was so mad, he wasn’t going to get any peace. “I can’t believe you. Just one day…one day. A date, a bit of normalcy…is that too much to ask, Gabe? I don’t touch you at work, not when people are looking. I deal with your macho bullshit, and your need to live half-in, half-out. If that’s your truth, I can’t change it, but by god Gabe, would it kill you to pretend you’re happy with me?”

Gabriel opened his eyes, turning to look at him a little faster than he meant to, the words striking him hard to his core. “I’m not…ashamed of you, Jack.” He said, swallowing some as he gripped the dashboard. Suddenly it felt like the car was doing three-sixties in a free-fall.

“Then what is it? Can I not have one day without an argument? One where maybe you say you love me first, or help me with paperwork, or rub my shoulders while I’m still at my desk? Can we go to the beach and you don’t have to hold my hand, but be sober and enjoy the most of the time? Wait til the end to get drunk?” He asked, his knuckles gripping the steering wheel til his knuckles turned white. “I don’t want you to change, Gabe, I just want you to show me some of the shit you promise me when you’re whispering in my ear at night. Or does pillow talk just that? Doesn’t leave the bedroom, doesn’t count?”

“Jack—“

“I mean, I love you with all my goddamn heart, Gabe and I—“

“Jack!”

“WHAT?!”

“My head is spinning.” He slurred a little.

Jack’s eyes widened. “Christ, Reyes! Why didn’t you tell me you get car sick?!” He asked, unable to think of a time that he’d seen Gabe ill, but it outside of a few incidents, he couldn’t think of any. At any rate, he was desperately looking for a place to pull over. “Hold on, hold on…don’t puke. Don’t puke.”

Gabe pressed a fist to his mouth, his cheeks puffing out suddenly, and just seeing it out of the corner of his eye made Jack dry heave while he drove. “Don’t….don’t urrrrrkkkkk! Don’t puke in my car. Out the window, out the window…” Jack begged, rolling down Reyes’ window for him.

It didn’t matter, Jack’s heaving and urgent weaving to try to get pulled over was enough and the next heave brought Gabe to spewing vomit forcefully between his fingers, all over the dash and hitting the windshield. It reeked of bile and alcohol, making Jack’s stomach churn further, dry heaving again hard enough his eyes watered. The sound of Gabe’s next wave of vomit splattering on the floor of his car was just the motivation Jack’s own stomach needed to fully dedicate itself and a vomit spewed from him, dripping down his chin onto his shirt, and into his lap. The rest coated the steering wheel, his hands, and that was it.

Fuck the police, fuck the laws, fuck everything. He just pressed his flashers there in the middle of the street where he suddenly stopped, barely getting unbuckled when the next wave caused him to projectile vomit over his car door and onto the pavement.

“I don’t…know what’s wrong with me…I felt….fine last night…” Gabe forced out, his voice rough from vomiting. Jack said nothing, sticky and covered in his own vomit, it just triggering his weak stomach over and over. Shakily Gabe reached over, rubbing Jack’s back while they both vomited, though Gabe’s next came in a wave right over the very back he rubbed.

There was no way Jack was going to be able to drive them home, but as luck would have it, a nice police man would stop behind them, and smelling all the alcohol in the vomit, give them both a ride…down to the station….for Angela to come pick up.

So much for that day off.

~Fin~


End file.
